Like father and son
by organic haircoat
Summary: General Sarov succeeds in convincing britain to give up Alex rider. Now the General will re-name him and claim him as the son that he has always wanted. Alex will have to submit to him or risk losing everything he knew until he is to broken to fight.
1. Chapter 1

_This is just an experiment. Trying this idea out – if you like it please review. _

Alex shook his leg as he stood handcuffed to the railing. His line of sight was directed at the row of boring office buildings that he had a plan to escape to as soon as he broke free of the hand cuffs. It took him another thirty seconds before he finally managed to break out of the metal clasps.

He hoped that he could run fast enough to make it away from the bomb. Surely his life depended on it now that Sarov was angry with him. Alex thought that the man was crazy before, now he wanted to kill him. He'd definitely rather that the man was obsessed with him becoming his son then trying to kill him. Being killed was definitely not on his list of cool spy things to do. He shook his head to clear the thoughts and kept jogging towards a gate. He shot a glance behind him to check that no one was following him.

He guessed that they hadn't noticed that he was running yet. He betted he would only have a few more precious seconds of grace before they noticed. Not wanting to waste it he focused his eyes on the gate ahead. To his surprise he noticed a regulation car heading his way. The car, for its part, was slowly making its way through checkpoint at the gate. Taking this as a chance to get away he instinctively dropped his shoulders and narrowed his eyes. His goal was set. He would make it to this check point. He had to. It was his only hope. He drew in a deep breath, swelling his chest with the air before sprinting towards the gate. His feet pounded on the concrete and he could feel the adrenaline shooting through his veins.

While the car seemed to be arguing with the guard at the gate Alex dashed through the narrow gap. But he didn't dare stop. He wasn't sure if the regulation car was filled with people who wanted him alive. Knowing that Sarov wanted him dead now added an extra layer of fear to Alex. He did not want to die. Alex ran around the corner and pressed his sweaty forehead against a wall. He didn't know what to do. He was in a part of the city that he didn't know. He didn't have any money on him either. Alex had to gather his wits about him before he began this.

He'd just managed to decide to scale up the wall when he heard a familiar voice. "Alex. Mr Blunt." The voice accompanied footsteps and Alex turned around slowly.

Seeing it was Mr Blunt Alex sagged in relief. "I escaped him. Sarov, he tried to force me into being his son. But then I pushed him a step to far and now he is trying to kill me." Alex's shoulders shook with adrenaline and Mr Blunt nodded to one of his guards to move closer to Alex.

"What a fascinating story Rider. But you are shaking let us take you back to the medics. Yes?" Alex frowned his instincts told him that Blunt wasn't being friendly. But there was no reason for him to betray him. This was practically the whole world at stake they were going to capture Sarov.

"Alright, I'll go. But Sarov I think is still on the air strip. You have to get out there fast." He stepped back when the body guard came closer with his arms outstretched. "Aren't you going Blunt? You've got to capture him."

"Of course we do Alex. We're doing that right after we get you to safety. You are after all our first priority." The body guard of Blunt finally managed to wrap an arm around Alex. He was wrestled into the muscled side and ushered out of the alley. The regulation car purred as it waited. But Alex wasn't allowed a moment to appreciate the sleek beauty of it. Instead he was pushed into the car.

Alex's senses set off ringing right then. "Where exactly are you taking me? I thought medics always came onto the scene."

"Sit still Alex." Mr Blunt barely blinked as they drove away from the airstrip. Alex looked over his shoulder and realised that the plane was no longer there. "You've missed him! Stop the car- stop the car! You have to call flight control and then you have to get the air force. And…shit." Alex slid back down into the leather seat and started cursing. "Always trust your instincts Alex. Always trust them." He pinched the inside of his arm for punishment. "You're taking me away to kill me aren't you?"

Alex's voice sounded small and desperate. Mr Blunt barely flinched when he heard it. "You are the pivotal piece in a large deal. In exchange for you, several documents and ten million dollars in trade assets Russia will hand over a large amount of its weaponry. Do this for your country Alex Rider."

"Well what happens when they turn back on their deal." Alex glared at Blunt but he made no further comment. The car ride was silent and Alex desperately fought with himself. He wanted to escape but he didn't want to jeopardise the small window of chance they had. He swallowed thickly and ignored his pride before asking, "When will you come to take me back?"

There was no hesitation before the response was given. "Never, we will not jeopardise this deal."

That was it. Alex couldn't sit there and let himself become an international bargaining cheap. He smashed his elbow directly into Mr Blunt's nose and dived across the car seat to reach for the door. One of Blunt's lackeys grabbed him by the hips and pulled him back. "Don't."

Alex kicked and struggled but was held down easily. When the car stopped Alex was thrown over someone's shoulder and brought out to who he presumed was Sarov. He groaned and hit as hard as he could when he heard Sarov's voice.

"I am so glad that you have brought my son back to me. I do apologise that he has caused so much trouble. Please, deliver him to Conrad."

"Sarov! I am not your son. I am not your son!" Alex yelled and screamed until Sarov slapped him in the face. Alex was momentarily stunned unprepared for the action. The man holding him took advantage of it and handed him over quickly to Conrad.

Conrad had no mercy on Alex and ripped his arms up his back. He pulled him up so that his weight was barely on the ground and dragged him into the aeroplane. Sarov stood outside for a few more moments to speak with Mr Blunt. "Thank you for your cooperation. I am very grateful to have my son now."

Blunt nodded to him. "The name 'Rider' will be deleted from all records. We will accept all Russian approved documents you supply us with."

"Wonderful." Sarov didn't bother to shake his hand as he walked back up to the aeroplane. He smiled widely when he saw Alex in an induced sleep. "How wonderful, my son has fallen asleep already. He must trust me, he knows he is safe."

Conrad rolled his eyes at his boss's sentimentality. "I think it may have something to do with the drugs as well sir."

Sarov ignored Conrad and instead kneeled in front of Alex. "My dear Demyan."

"Demyan sir? His name is Alex." Conrad leant forward interested to how the name had appealed to his boss.

"It is Russian name. We are to refer to him only as that – until he forgets this English life completely. Demyan means to tame, or submissive. That you are aware…look at this face. Is it anything like the ferocious spy that we were promised to oppose?" Sarov tilted it so that Conrad could see Alex better. "No, mother Russia will be proud of us. Today she will gain a new loyal child. My second son." He beamed before pulling Alex against him. The head of the young boy lolled against his chest and he couldn't have felt happier.


	2. Chapter 2

Alex looked around his white room and pressed his hands into his eyes trying to block back tears. He'd clearly been sedated, but he didn't know for how long. While he'd been out he'd had a horrible dream, that he'd been used as a bargaining chip. He leant back against the headboard and stared blankly at the wall once he'd managed to stop the tears. A few still escaped and dribbled down his cheeks but he couldn't bring himself to care. He had the horrible feeling that what he'd dreamed was real. Hearing the distant babble of talking in a language he couldn't understand encouraged him to think that. He felt the cold fear and dread creep up and over his shoulders. He didn't want this.

Slowly Alex allowed himself to swing his legs out of bed and stand up on the floor. It was then that he noticed he had a silver anklet fixed to his ankle. He crouched down so that he could have a better look at it. There was nothing giving away what it was. A name was engraved in a silver plate on the anklet. It looked flimsy and easy to break but Alex was hesitant to unless there was any repercussions. He ran a thumb over the writing and slowly translated out the name. "Demyan Sarov. That is not my name…is that what he called his son?" Alex thought aloud. It was a dirty feeling wearing something that once belonged to Sarov's son. He stayed rubbing his thumb over the bracelet and thinking. "No that was Vladimir…who is Demyan?" Frowning at the odd Russian name he stood up and went to check if the door was locked.

To his surprise it wasn't. He easily opened the door and looked out into a long hallway. It looked open and friendly to his surprise. When he stepped out of his room he could see that half of the left hand side wall was made of glass. It let in the warm sunlight and Alex couldn't resist basking in the warmth. After a few minutes he tore himself away from the heat and began to walk towards the next door that he could see. He didn't want to run encase it set of any sensors and if the thing on his ankle started beeping he was wary that it might shock him. There was nothing worse in his mind then having your brain scrambled by electric shocks. His hand reached out and clasped the door. Once again it turned easily and Alex opened it hoping to something that would give him a clue as to where he was. Instead it opened onto a wide wooden deck. On the deck were tables and chairs.

Taking a step forward, Alex continued to look around the new area. He could see that he was boxed in by the walls of the house. It made a circle around the deck and pool. He wandered over to it looking over his shoulder cautiously before dipping his foot in. It was the perfect temperature for swimming. He pulled his foot out and walked along the low pool wall to the next door. It looked like it led to another wing of the house. This whole time Alex had been hoping that he wouldn't walk into a whole barrage of armed Russian military. But with all of his wandering around the possibility became more likely. He jumped off the pool wall and opened the next door barely surprised that it wasn't locked now. It opened into another hallway but this time there were two women bustling up and down the hall. Alex almost went back and hid but after observing them for a moment he noticed that they weren't carrying weapons but laundry.

The two women were chatting happily with each other in Russian. Alex stepped closer to them trying to understand the fast Russian. He crept closer not bothering to press against the wall because they appeared to be harmless. As he got closer he could still see that they held no weapons. He could also pick out basic things from their conversation like, dishes, laundry and table. It appeared that there conversation was not on the kidnapping of a young spy. Feeling less threatened Alex cleared his throat hoping that they would notice him. Sure enough once he cleared his throat the two women noticed him walking closer and stopped talking to bow to him. The taller and older looking one spoke in unsteady English. "Demyan, you are ready for breakfast?"

Alex frowned when he heard the name Demyan. He pointed to himself, "I'm called Alex."

The staff smiled at each other and motioned for him to follow them. Seeing no other option Alex did so. They led him down the hallway and to the left where it opened out into a grand dining room. Sarov was already sitting at the table with a Russian newspaper in his hand. It featured his face and it looked to be a good photo. But Alex couldn't see enough to guess whether or not it was a positive article. But he guessed that Sarov wouldn't be reading it if it wasn't a good story. The oldest looking women again spoke to Sarov in fast Russian. She gestured to Alex again and he picked up the word Demyan and Knyaz1. He frowned and muttered the word trying to remember its meaning they had spoken of it once with his language tutor. But all of that seemed so far away now.

Sarov smiled when he saw Alex. "Demyan, my little prince, how wonderful it is to see you awake. Come here." The last sentence that Sarov spoke was an order and Alex knew it. Slowly he walked between the two women and around the large table to Sarov. He stood beside him awkwardly waiting for some kind of humiliation or punishment. That was how it always had been with captives. They were called to their captors for something horrific and terrifying. They were never called up for anything good.

Sarov raised his hand and Alex flinched expecting a hit. Sarov looked sorrowful when Alex flinched but gently stroked Alex's cheek. "What have those British people done to you? My prince expects to be hit when his father talks to him. Your father will never hit you without reason my little Demyan." Alex stepped back wanting to escape the man but Sarov took his wrist and pressed him down into a chair. It was such a gentle movement that Alex could hardly believe it was Sarov who was doing it. He sat, heavily in his chair displeased with himself for obeying so easily. But Sarov looked happy and that made Alex feel calmer about being held captive. If he wasn't going to be beaten yet, then he had more time to brace himself for the onslaught of it.

Alex took a deep breath to calm him before he asked the first question. "Why are you calling me Demyan?" He stared at the wood of the table in front of him not wanting to see if he'd caused the beating to come sooner.

"I call you Demyan because it is your Russian name. Most people in this house cannot pronounce Alex you don't want to be rude do you?" He dismissed the two laundry women but asked them to tell the waiter to bring Demyan's breakfast. Alex shook his head. That did make sense, changing his name to something that people could pronounce. But he had other questions too. "Why am I here?"

"My children all live under the same roof. Although you are of course my only child and the only one I plan to have. As such you are very precious to me and I have many plans for your future." Sarov let his paper rest on the table seeing that Alex had a great many questions that he needed to ask.

Alex bristled at being called a child. He was fourteen that's a teenager, not a child. "Where am I?"

"You are in Moscow, the capital of the mother land." Sarov looked to Alex and his eyes gleamed with pride. "In the few days you have been asleep but I was initiated as president. But the press has taken to calling me king and you as prince. That is why I call you my prince and you will be Alex. Your name Alex rider is already being purged from the records. Instead Demyan Sarov is being created."

A bowl of plain looking porridge was served up to Alex. He looked down at the bowl and hesitantly scooped some out to eat.

Sarov watched him waiting for some kind of reaction but he got none. He decided to continue. "Your friends and caretakers have been alerted that it was seen fit you were moved elsewhere. They know that you are safe but will never hear about you again. I am not a cruel man Alex but I am a father. I never got the chance to see my eldest son reach his potential but as my youngest you will obey me."

"Jack? Is she okay?" Alex wanted to know if his guardian was still alright.

"Yes. The woman has been given visa to stay in England. But she may not travel to Russia or any country when we are visiting it." Sarov watched Alex carefully waiting for him to become upset. All Alex was doing was staring at his oat meal. He watched the boy closely before realising that he was crying. "Demyan are you crying? Demyan my sweet child – do not cry." He tried to stroke Alex's back but his hand was thrown off.

Alex stood up upsetting his bowl and wiped the tears off his face. "Don't touch me! I will never accept you as my father. I want Jack!" He turned and ran out of the room. Sarov didn't bother to stand up and chase him. Alex would tire out soon anyway. Instead he pressed a button to call Conrad.

When the guard picked up he told him simply in Russian. "Demyan is throwing a tantrum, keep an eye on him. I'd imagine he'd still be tired with the bit of sedative in his system."

"Yes sir – ah I can see him now. Should I let him see me sir?" Conrad was clearly disgruntled by not being able to tackle the boy to the ground the moment that he saw him.

"No, just follow him. He's bound to tire out – just catch him when he does and call me. I'll take it over from there." Sarov ended the call and sat back to read his paper again.

Meanwhile Alex was sprinting as hard as he could through the property. It seemed to stretch on forever and he had the weird feeling that he would never find the end of it. But of course there had to be a property fence line somewhere. He stopped sprinting for a moment. His legs were tired and heavy and his head was pounding. He rubbed one eye cursing the effects that sedative always had on him. It made him sleepy for at least three days afterwards.

Alex settled down in the grass after looking around to check for anyone watching him. A quick scan told him that no one was there and he was unable to resist sinking into the soft green grass. It was warm and inviting and Alex's eyes slid closed before he could force himself to stand back up.

Conrad opened his phone and dialled Sarov. "General, sir your son has stopped and appears to be sleeping."

Sarov checked his watch and was a little surprised. "So soon, we must have given him more sedative then he needed. Oh well, he not go far then. Where is he?" He put the paper down and walked out of the kitchen and to the front of the house. It was a huge piece of property. He'd bought it so that he could isolate Alex for long enough to convince him that he really was a young Russian boy.

When he made it the few hundred meters to where Alex was dozing in the grass with Conrad watching his heart melted. "Demyan, you silly boy, use you words when you are upset. Don't you dare run off on me like that again – or I will let Conrad belt you next time." He slid two hands beneath Alex and lifted him off the grass carrying him easily.

"Conrad, go tell the chef to make his 'special' drink. I'll prepare Demyan for another nap." Sarov walked back towards the house ignoring the feeble struggles of his son. "That is enough Demyan. You have no reason to be upset. I did everything in my power to ensure that your old life is taken care of. Alex Rider is no more – it is time to begin living your life safely as Demyan Sarov." He walked into Alex's room and carefully helped him dress for bed. Alex was almost passed out from the exertion he put his drugged body under but he wasn't quiet asleep. He swung his hands drunkenly trying to push him off. But they had no effect on the Russian Soldier. When Conrad came in with the milk Sarov tipped it down Alex's throat and lay him down to sleep. He remained stroking Alex's hair while speaking softly to Conrad. "I know it's not good to be drugging him this much. But look at how he ran today even with the small sedatives in the porridge." Sarov shook his head. "I want him so bad. I don't think that if he begged me I could let him go." He met Conrad's eyes. "He's mine Conrad. Not that lady Jack's or MI6. Mine, he's just my little prince."

AN:_I wanted to thank you all for the amazing response that I had. It was so overwhelming and you made my day. Because of it you're all getting an update so soon. So if you want fast updates like that keep the response happening because wow, were they inspiring! Xx_

1 It means prince in Russian


	3. Chapter 3

General Sarov smiled and patted the chair next to him when Alex entered the room. "Dobroe utro moy syn.'"

Alex nodded tiredly and didn't bother to respond. He could careless that the General was still insisting upon calling him his son. He just wanted to go back home. The general nudged him with his foot, "Demyan answer in Russian please."

"Menya zavoot Alex" He glared at Sarov.

"Demyan Alexei Sarov are you defying me?" The general clasped his hand and stared directly at Alex.

Swallowing thickly Alex shook his head. He'd managed to avoid being beaten so far and he'd like to keep it that way. He was almost scared of what the ex-military general could think up as punishment. "No sir."

"Demyan." The general half rose from his seat and the word jumped out of Alex's mouth in his effort to avoid punishment. "Papa."

Sarov smiled and sat back down. "There you are my dear son. See the pride that you give me? Now all you have to do is obey me Demyan. Then I can give you a very good life. I will provide for you a life better than any other Russian or English boy."

"What. So I'll be here for two more years then shipped off to the Russian army? Yeah, lots to look forward to." Alex couldn't bite back his sarcasm when he was so tired. The sedatives were preventing him from having a proper deep sleep. But if he didn't have them he would stay awake for hours out of fear that someone would come in and hurt him.

Before Alex could register what was happening Sarov had grabbed Alex out of his seat and pulled him into a protective hug. His face was squished against Sarov's chest and his arms were restricted by his sides. Instinctively he took stock of the situation and began planning a safe escape route that wouldn't risk making the General lash out. He listened with his heart pounding to the general talking.

"You will never ever be allowed near the military or any kind of armed forces again. I refuse to consider that at all. I lost my eldest to the force I will not lose my youngest. You are to remain safe within my watch. When I die you will be taken care of by whoever I delegate power to…if it happens to you then rest assured the empire will be a peaceful one. I will never lose another son to a bullet." Alex's eyes widened when he realised that Sarov was actually stroking his hair. He wriggled and tried to get free but the grip of an ex-militant was too strong so he just stayed still for a bit. Eventually Sarov let him go and sat him back down on the chair opposite him.

For breakfast Alex had been given a traditional meal of dark sausage, thick bread, butter and some mushrooms. Sarov was trying very hard to assimilate Alex to the culture without overwhelming him with everything. He wanted Alex to come to love him and Russia in his own time but in the same moment he wanted Alex to want him there. He wanted to be the dad or 'papa' in Alex's life.

"Eat breakfast Demyan." He gestured with one hand towards the plate. Alex or Demyan as he should get used to calling him had been staring at the plate for the last thirty seconds. "It is good food, meat, bread and mushroom. They are all very healthy foods."

"I don't want to be drugged anymore Sarov. It makes me tired, please just stop this and let me go home." Alex turned desperately to Sarov. In the light the bags under his eyes were obvious and his skin was pale from exhaustion. "I miss England and being outside."

"I can let you outside and remove the sedatives if you promise to behave. But I can't send you back to England. There is no one to care for you there and you don't exist as Alex Rider anymore." Sarov's voice was so sickeningly sweet that it brought tears to Alex's eyes.

"I want to go home! I want my England and things I know." Sarov covered Alex's mouth before he could go on a tirade any longer. "I have something that you might enjoy. Come, give me two hours to entertain you. Then you can tell me why you're so unhappy." He did not give Alex the opportunity to refuse. Instead he just dragged him from the kitchen and brought him outside. "You may learn and remember this route; If you enjoy it I have no qualms with you doing it more frequently."

Sarov stopped in front of a nice looking oak building. "In here are several horses. I have picked one specially for you." He opened the door with a flourish. "He has good temperament and is a reliable ride. They are trained to always return home so if you get lost you can always just tell him to take you home. They understand." He stopped in front of a gorgeous chestnut horse.

"This is Genadij it means generous and noble. It is a good Russian name for strong horse." Sarov did not notice the terrified look in Alex's eyes. To him the horse was huge and intimidating. He had never worked with horses before and only ever attributed riding them to the job of Australian Cowboys.

"I ride that?"

"Of course Demyan! I get the horse for you so that you can ride it. What have you never ridden a horse before?" He meant it as a joke but when he was not met with a scoff in response he hesitated. "You have ridden before?"

Alex shook his head. "Never."

Sarov's chest filled with excitement. This would be the first thing that he would ever teach his son. "Right, the horse is saddled up and ready to go. So I'll lift you up and show you." He opened the stall door and let him and Alex in. The poor boy looked terrified and was as limp as a rag doll when he lifted him up into the saddle.

"Sit up a little straighter Demyan, don't slouch. Yes. Good there we are. Now I have a lead clipped on him so he can't run okay? But while we're moving you keep hold of these. He gave the reins to Alex who gripped them tightly in his fists. Sarov checked that he wasn't pulling on the horse's mouth too hard before setting off. He smiled when he heard Alex's breathing hitch. He liked it, he just knew it.

Sarov led them out into a yard and walked alex around the circle a few times before he turned to him. "Now Demyan can I take off this lead? You can be a big brave Russian boy and try riding by yourself."

Alex nodded the corners of his mouth turned up. Sarov unclipped it and slapped the rump of Genadij. "Go!" The horse walked slowly on as Alex sat stiffly on top of him. Sarov leant back against the wall and watched proudly. His whole chest felt warm and only grew warmer as Alex relaxed and the smile came back.

"This is good Demyan?"

"Yes…papa." Alex hesitated before saying papa but after the correction at breakfast he wanted to keep the general happy. Plus it was very fun being up on a horse he felt strong and he could see everything for miles.

Sarov practicallu glowed with happiness and muttered in Russian. _"my son is learning to love me"_


	4. Chapter 4

One week later, Alex turned on a television. Normally television watching – even when watching in a foreign language – was relaxing. But it was much worse than Alex had anticipated. He knew that his friends would be worried about him and hopefully Jack had clued in on the fact that this wasn't a voluntary absence. But unfortunately for him the television had other ideas. The English news channel that he'd managed to track down after hours of channel surfing played a picture of himself and old house. There was a short clip of a fire and then explosion before reporter began to speak.

_A mysterious house explosion in England leaves investigators stumped as to what was the cause. Young teenager Alex Rider is known to be dead but his care giver was miraculously out shopping at the time of his death. She is currently being investigated to test whether or not she had any involvement in the crime. _

_It it thought that she held a grudge against the boy for reasons unknown. How – _Alex cut the television off there. He didn't want to hear anymore. He had to get out of here and save Jack. He had to show everyone that not only was he alive but that Jack was innocent. The last thing that he wanted to see was his guardian being put behind bars.

Looking around to ensure that there were no guards about Alex stepped out of the room. He'd been told to stay in the large entertainment room while Sarov had his meeting but right now he had no interest in obeying rules. He was done being the submissive captive. It was time to play hard or never go home.

Down the hallway he could hear Sarov yelling at someone in fast Russian. Concluding that he was distracted enough not to chase after Alex he headed out of the hallway. He knew his way to the stables now because he went there often enough with Sarov. The stables led to the outside and Alex presumed he could hit the boundaries of the property faster on a horse. They were in Moscow after all the property could only be so big.

The silver anklet on his left foot beeped a warning at him but Alex ignored it. If it hadn't hurt him in this past week then it wouldn't do anything now. He continued to walk down the corridor ignoring the growing heat around his ankle. He opened the door that opened out to the dirt path towards the stables. The anklet beeped twice and Alex winced as the heat grew. "Agh! That freaking burns." He tried to pull it off but it was stuck just as tightly as it had been every other time he'd tried to pull it off.

"Oh crap, damn, nope. Done I am one hundred percent done." Alex kept talking to his anklet as he tried to yank it off. But he was only succeeding in burning his fingers as well. He dropped it and shook his ankle desperately trying to stop the burn from hurting him. But already it was leaving a pink ring around his ankle.

"I have to stop the heat." Alex couldn't take the burn any longer and he started retracing his steps. The idea was that if he went back to where he was meant to be that the heat would stop. He jogged quickly back inside and the bracelet beeped once but the heat did not recede. It stayed the same and Alex hunched over and grabbed his leg trying to stay quiet. He did not want to cry out and give Sarov the satisfaction.

"What am I doing?" Alex pressed his forehead into his knee and ignored the pain of the burn. He was not a child and he was not weak. He had given in too easily Sarov must have been having a joy ride with him. He took him horse riding for goodness sake, what kind of evil general did that? Obviously he was laughing at Alex behind his back and England by default.

Blunt had told him to do this for his country which Alex had decided to interpret as meaning stay strong for England. He lifted his head up trying to feel determined when all he could feel was the blistering of his skin. "I must be strong."

He heard footsteps and instantly he was on his feet. Favouring his right leg which wasn't currently being burnt he stood in a fighting stance. He winced and tried to keep his eyes from watering but he'd never been strong when it came to hiding pain. He could do it when he was hyped up on adrenaline and he could cover it up when people were watching. But when he was tired from being on constant alert and depressed from feeling weak – then it was impossible to hide.

An armed guard came around the corner and looked Alex up and down before speaking into his two way radio. Alex hesitated before hesitantly speaking in his basic Russian. "Ya zabludilsya."

The guard looked at him for a moment before shaking his head and speaking into the radio again. Alex lowered his fists and sunk back down to deal with the anklet. Underneath he could see the large white bumps with fluid underneath. The burn remained even when he pulled the anklet off of the area burning his fingers instead.

The Russian man stared at Alex fiddling with the anklet before coming to a decision. "Ne dvigayutsya Demyan."

Alex stiffened when he was called Demyan but let the guard do what he had to do. The man crouched down and placed a thick cloth between his skin and the anklet. The absence of the heat was a blessing for Alex and he closed his eyes in relief. "Spasibo." The guard didn't stop to acknowledge Alex's thanks. Instead he just lifted him up and carried him back down the hall. He was carried past Sarov's office and down a narrow stairway to where a dank office was.

Conrad sat in his chair and smirked when he saw Alex. "What a shame, has little Demyan burnt himself?" He motioned to the man holding him and he was dropped to the floor. He hit the carpet hard and rolled up onto his feet. His heart was pumping as his fear of Conrad kicked in.

"Shh, dear little prince there's no need for you to be fretting so much…well actually there is. Because if there's one thing a Russian man hates it's a spoiled brat." He grabbed Alex by the hair and threw him forward into the wooden desk. Alex hit his top lip and felt his teeth go through the skin – leaving blood to dribble out of his mouth. But Conrad was not satisfied. He pulled a long leather whip from his desk and motioned for Alex's shirt to be pulled off.

Alex yelled and tried to keep his shirt on but there were too many and the material tore. His last shirt from home was torn away from his back and he was left with his back exposed to Conrad.

The main let the whip trail up Alex's back before he spoke again. "The general does not want to do this to you. He wants to keep you coddled and safe from the world – but you're not like that are you, Demyan? I fight long and hard for this country and you will learn to do the same. So when my master tells you he wants you to stay somewhere you will do it." With that he brought the lash down hard on Alex's back. Alex jerked upwards in pain and bucked around trying to get away. But no one loosened their grip on Alex one pushed his head down onto the wooden desk and held it there while Conrad brought the lash down five more times.

The material between his anklet and skin had fallen off while he was struggling. Alex fought desperately to get the burning metal off of his ankle. But Conrad just ran the whip up and down his back in a mockery of comfort. "Four more then I will take you back to Sarov." He leant forward his mouth against Alex's ear. "You will behave for him. I do not want to see him weak and vulnerable because of you."

Alex nodded. He could barely form a response his body was too overloaded with pain. Conrad smirked and patted his cheek condescendingly before drawing back the whip and bringing it down hard against his back. Alex closed his eyes and whimpered as his teeth bit down into his tongue for comfort. Whimpers fell out of his mouth and he pressed his forehead as hard as it could go into the wood as the final three lashes sliced through his back.

When the final sting of the whip left his back Alex was released and he fell to the floor. He lay there in a heap unsure of what wound to deal with first.

Conrad nudged him with his foot before rolling his eyes and pulling Alex up onto his feet. "Alright Demyan, up the stairs and to your father I'm sure he's been worried about you."

Alex didn't even try and resist, he let himself be manhandled up the stairs and down the hall. Conrad knocked and then threw open the door dropping Alex onto the carpet in the office. "The boy set off the anklet sir. I had him punished and brought to you, I'm sure he is no longer so resistant."

Sarov stood up and looked down at Alex who lay in a crumpled heap. "What did you do to him Conrad? He looks as- suka, blyad!" Sarov finally took in the full extent of Alex's injuries. He pulled out the device for Alex's tracer and switched it off before ringing the bell for a maid. "Get out of here Conrad. I am mad at this time and do not wish to make a mistake."

"A mistake like that boy was?" Conrad remained where he wanted to push the general for answers.

But the general was not in a forgiving mood. "_That boy is my son." _Sarov lifted Demyan up careful not to hurt his injuries and passed Conrad as he left for Demyan's room. He told the maid that had finally arrived to run ahead and tell the doctor he kept on the premises to come to Demyan's room. Conrad followed behind him and the two of them continued to argue in Russian. "He is a child Conrad – not a soldier that you can toy with."

"A soldier is not a weakness for you – if any of your enemies found out about him they would fire attack after attack at him." Conrad tried to make the man see reason. "Send him back to England he is nothing but a nuisance here."

"He is anything but a nuisance. I have a great many plans Conrad and he is the final part in all of them. He will inherit everything – you, my estate, Russia. My eldest son was a soldier but my youngest will be my dictator." He swept his fingers over Alex's blonde hair.

Conrad eyed Demyan off. "He does not look that strong."

"But he will be. I will make sure that he grows up to be set in strong Russian ideals. For that I have a plan." He passed Alex off to a doctor and turned to Conrad to continue his conversation. "Alex must develop a very close relationship with me – like father and son. You get this. Good."

Sarov cleared his throat before continuing. "I bring in woman and she will be like a mother to Alex. She will be very kind, loving, motherly and blah, blah. Then 'oh no' lady has a little accident from English military and he is back with me. Lost connection with mother- I am there to comfort him, show him the fault lies with the English and there we go. We jump start his hatred and then we have perfect child. Now do not touch him without my permission again." Sarov turned on his heel and walked into Alex's bedroom to talk to the doctor.

"He will be well again?"

"Yes General sir, I have disinfected the cuts and treated the burns so a few days bed rest and he will be as good as new." The doctor nodded to him and saluted briefly before leaving the room.

"Demyan…Demyan I can see that you are awake." Sarov waited until Alex opened his eyes. "I am sorry for what happened today my son. I can see now that you are just too young to handle being left alone." He shushed Alex when he went to talk. "I tried to be a good father to you – Demyan?"

Alex whimpered and curled up as tight as he could. "Don't kill me. Don't kill me. Don't kill me." Sarov had enough of him, he was going to kill him. He had him whipped and beaten so that he would be weak when he shot Alex. If he was going to kill him mercifully that was.

A cool hand stroked his forehead and Alex uncurled slowly. Sarov spoke quietly as if talking to a spooked animal. "I will not kill you. I could never do that not even if you begged me. But this does prove to me that you are in need of a mother figure. You need someone with good Russian ideals and who will care for you very much." Alex didn't respond, he just leaned in to the touch in desperate need of comfort after being overwhelmed with so much pain.


	5. Chapter 5

Sarov folded his hands underneath his chin and stared at the woman before him. "You say your name is Julia Rothman?"

The woman was beautiful, enchanting with her looks but held an air of danger about her. She wasn't Russian either and both of those would count against her. But she seemed to have a strong interest in Alex.

Julia lifted her head and stared coolly back at Sarov. "Yes I am Julia and I have had dealings with Rider before. You will of course find that I am capable of…" She trailed off as Sarov stood and held the door open. Julia arched one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "You are not interested in punishing the brat? I assumed that he would have caused you enough trouble by now."

"It's not Rider. It's Sarov, Demyan Sarov. That's my son – I am after a mother figure for him, a caretaker of sorts. However you speak no Russian nor do you up hold the teachings that I wish to pass onto my son. I do not want Demyan to have any ties to his old life. None at all do you understand me?" Sarov walked back towards the desk and rested both palms flat against the wood. His eyes bore deeply into hers and warned her from responding. "I have allowed you to come for an interview here not to listen to your pathetic attempt to become closer to my son. Rather I brought you here to bring closure –he is no longer Alex Rider, you have no claim to him through any means possible. Do you understand this?"

Julia tossed her head. "I am no child Alexei Sarov. I am aware of the situation that you are keeping the spy in. But you cannot possibly expect me to believe you actually think of him as your son? That is pathetic. You lost your chance at having family you should not be trying to steal Alex but rather punish him. Punish him because he is making a mockery of you. Alex will never care for you! He is a cold hearted spy. Damaged goods even, so don't even pretend that he's worth your time. How many Russian children are left on the streets while you!" Julia was cut off when Sarov slapped her across the face. His cheeks were red with anger and his hand shook as it hung in the air. He was frozen where his hand stopped after he slapped her. His lower lip trembled and spittle flew out as he growls at her. "There is no such thing as Alex Rider. Demyan Sarov is my son." With that he turned on his heel and left the room. A guard entered in afterwards and cleared the room.

Sarov walked down the corridor in a considerably darker mood. It was just yesterday that Conrad had Demyan whipped. The act had almost broken the boy, attaching him desperately to the first person who had given him comfort and safety. That person had ended up being Sarov himself so he'd been unable to find true anger for what Conrad had done. His goal had been to attach Demyan to himself at some point in time anyway. It was just that a broken Demyan was not what he wanted. He loved the fire and debate in the boy- it was what made him so inspired to have Demyan as a politician. He could see the boy leading the crowd to a greater Russia. They would take back all the colonies that had a connection to Russian soil.

He turned right around the corridor and swiped his security card through the wing. After the events of yesterday he had moved Demyan to his secluded part of the house. Demyan could not leave it unless he was escorted by Sarov or a guard. Sarov saw the boy slumped against the couch watching television. Sarov was relieved to see that there were no tears this time. "Demyan, I have returned." Sarov sat down next to Demyan and patted his son's knee. "I have been interviewing people for you today. Yesterday made me realise – what sorry I missed that?"

"England. Have you bombed England?" Sarov followed Demyan's gaze to the television and saw the destruction that was displayed there. He felt no guilt for what he had done and neither should Demyan. But he supposed that he was still very much within his Alex Rider mindset right now. So the destruction of England would mean something to him. Gently Sarov wrapped an arm around Alex and pulled him in slowly until his head was pressed against the army badges of Sarov's uniform. "Alex. Alex, this is Russia you are watching what happened here in Russia as my son." Alex didn't flinch he just continued to stare at the screen. So Sarov decided to keep talking. "You can lead two lives here Alex, you can live one as Alex Rider and you can feel sad and sore and miserable. You can be tired and guilty all the time. But you could lead a different one. The name I gave you, Demyan Sarov has no ties to anyone, except me. I could make sure that you are happy, safe, enjoying yourself and you would feel none of this constant guilty pressure."

Alex didn't say anything, he just remained there slumped. Sarov couldn't tell if he was thinking over what had been said or ignoring him completely. He decided that as long as Alex wasn't pushing him away he didn't need to force him to provide answers. They stayed like that for a minute until he felt a little pinch by his stomach. He looked down and saw Alex's pale hand clutching onto his shirt. He was instantly reminded of Vladimir. His eldest son had always grabbed his father's shirt when he was affected by something. "You two are so alike, he would have loved you." Sarov stroked Alex hair gently, the blond strands were silky under his skin and he smiled down. "Perhaps we can visit where he rests some time. I would teach you much about your older brother if you gave me the chance Alex."

"Demyan."

"What?" Sarov frowned and leant in closer so that he could hear what Alex was saying. Again he heard the hesitant Russian phrase. "Menya Zavoot Demyan." _My name is Demyan. _It was such a simple statement. A statement of pure fact for anyone who hadn't listened to their conversation but Sarov knew it was acceptance. His eyes lit up with gratitude and he continued to pet Demyan's hair. "I'll keep my promise Alex, as Demyan, as my son, you'll never feel guilty about something like this happening to England again."

Alex didn't move, he just lay there clutching Sarov's shirt and refused to think about his future. He knew he was siding with the bad side but he felt so tired. He was physically tired from the thrashing from yesterday but more so he was mentally tired. He was tired of ignoring flashbacks and irrational fears. He did want to let Sarov take over. He wanted someone else to care if he was tucked into bed at night and whether or not he ate a proper meal. The general wasn't going to force him into the army at sixteen and he was going to get a chance at a proper education. As far as Alex was concerned Demyan was the better option –the only option. He watched as Sarov picked up the television remote and turned it off he did not mind though. England had been the one to betray him – he was 'learning' from England. Do whatever it takes to survive.

Sarov remained still for a long time allowing Alex or now, officially and permanently, Demyan to remain close to him. He stroked his hand gently up and down Demyan's back, murmuring sweet words of comfort to him in Russian. Gently he shifted Demyan so that his blond hair was cupped in his rough hand, looking down at him he couldn't bite back the term of endearment, "moy maylsh solnechnyy svet." Demyan was floppy and easy to rearrange in his arms, he continued to pet his hair and pulled him half onto his lap when Conrad entered.

His eyes narrowed when he saw that Alex was getting the special treatment from Sarov. He did not comment on it seeing that the boy was making Sarov happy anyway. "My general, the first proper candidate has arrived and the lady Jul – sir?" Sarov sent him a warning look before he could finish his sentence and motioned to Demyan. Conrad saluted to him quickly. "I shall tell her to come back another day."

"No! No, never mind that is not what I meant." Sarov used his free hand to rub at his face. He was unsure of how he could possibly leave Demyan alone when he was so vulnerable. But he did not want to bring Demyan into an interviewing environment. Although it would be an excellent chance to see how they would manage the shared upbringing of Demyan, perhaps if he liked how they looked after Demyan he would allow them to live for a little longer. He looked Demyan over and waved a hand a a servant in the corner of the room, "prepare the rooms I have a challenge for this candidate. Come Demyan, you can be with me later, for now we shall find you a mother. I will build you the perfect family so that you will become the strongest Russian president." Demyan did not shift and Sarov hoped that this sort of exercise would cheer his son up. "Conrad, move her to the red room."

Conrad saluted and left and the maid scurried out after him in an effort to get everything prepared. Sarov tapped Demyan on the shoulder and stood him up on his feet gently "I know that you are tired moy maylsh solnechnyy svet." He began to lead Demyan out of the room. "But this is your new mother, the perfect one will know you are tired and tell me to put you to bed. It is ingenious!" Demyan did not respond his whole body was just craving the comfort of safety and warmth. The lash wounds on his back had not healed and after agreeing to give himself over to Sarov he'd hoped for more down time. What was this about finding him a mother anyway?

"Oh! Is this the boy, the little Knyaz?" The voice was shrill and it made Demyan shudder. The very sound of it made a headache surface. He hoped this wasn't the woman that Sarov had chosen one glance at her told him that she favoured the neon colours. She was dressed in an odd assortment of bright oranges, blues and pinks and it made Demyan grateful that Sarov preferred the plainer more business like colours.

It appeared that the lady did not please Sarov either. "Out." His voice was dripping with boredom and his guards knew to respond quickly. Sarov settled Demyan down on his office chair and took the plainer seat next to him. Another lady walked in dressed in a simple business suit. She looked sharp and firm. She sat down without invitation and stuck out her hand. "I am Maria, my last name is obviously not important. I have been a nanny for eight years and am fluent in English and Russian." She shook Sarov's hand. "I have good firm hand for discipline and will make a strong well-disciplined boy."

Every time that the lady said discipline Demyan couldn't help but flinch as he remembered Conrad's version of discipline. He had no doubt that he would enjoy this lady's form of discipline even less. He was sure though that Sarov would choose her if she was strict he would hardly have to be around. So then it would be easier for him to ignore Demyan. He was sure that was Sarov's plan eventually. Demyan pulled at the fraying cuff of his shirt, all he wanted right now was some time away from being Alex and being smart and spy-like. He did want to be some innocent Russian boy who got love and attention from Sarov. He didn't look up as Sarov finished the interview. His eyes were blurry and filled with tears. He just wanted time off, was it that hard to come by. Sarov had even promised it to him but here he was on display once more. He couldn't take it, he couldn't take being the strong English boy and being the stoic Sarov son was impossible, he wanted out. Demyan put his head in his hands and the tears leaked out from behind his eyelids.

"Moy malish!" A new woman ignored Sarov when she entered the room and knelt by Demyan. "Look at you. You must be exhausted meeting new people every five minutes." She had dark hair and deep brown eyes. She pulled Demyan's hands away from his eyes and dabbed a tissue at him. "He is exhausted, come who can take him to his room?"

Sarov leant around the woman realising with astonishment that the child spy had been crying. "I can. Here, moy maylsh solnechnyy svet." He brushed his fingers through Demyan's hair and kissed his forehead. Gently so as not to alarm him he slid one hand beneath Demyan's legs and the other supporting his back. Carefully he lifted him off the chair and motioned for the woman to follow him. "You were the first to notice his fatigue but I am sorry I did not realise that I had taken it so far." He smiled as once again Demyan had tangled his fingers in Sarov's shirt. He patted Demyan's back comfortingly and shushed him as best he could. There were still tears that Sarov could see and he felt guilty.

"I was the only one to notice he was crying? My, to think I'm the only one without credentials!" She laughed for a moment before looking guilty. "Not that I don't think I should have them general, sir. It's just you know, I'm not that good with my reading and writing. But my old employer taught me English, I can talk to the boy if he's upset."

"Hm, you are true Russian woman then. Wonderful, I've put in the room three down from his. Once your background check and the usual scans have gone through I'll expect you to move in." Sarov turned with an armful of Demyan. "I'm sure he will be grateful not to have any of those other garish women as a mother."


	6. Chapter 6

_AN: Sorry about this one if you don't like it. But like I said this whole story is an experiment so take it on if you can and tell me what you think. Thank you._

"That's my boy! Head up, knees in." Sarov leant against the fence proudly watching as Demyan jumped every jump that he'd set up. "You're doing well."

Demyan had been hesitant at first to try jumping the horse jumps when he'd only started riding a little while ago. Sarov however had been confident that he could do it and started him off with little tests to show him how capable he actually was. He gave Sarov a grin and finished off the last jump trotting over to him. "Did you see that? I can actually do it!"

"That you can." He patted the flank of the horse which was covered in sweat. "I think you've worn out this one too much. Come on hop down, I'll have someone take him back and look after him." Sarov turned and motioned to one of his servants, "come take the horse. My son and I have some politics to discuss. You'll find this session quiet riveting Demyan." He wrapped two strong hands around his son's smaller hips and lifted him down from the horse. "Horse is very big yes?" He laughed and ruffled Demyan's hair.

There was a light clap coming from the corner and Demyan's new mother smiled brightly and waved to the two of them. "That was fantastic! Oh you looked splendid up there, come here let me get that helmet off you."

Demyan walked to her encouraged by Sarov and wanted to tell her that he could take it off himself but he didn't know the words in Russian. Sarov's new rule was that Demyan had to speak Russian until five or when he was deemed too tired. Unfortunately for him while he figured out what words meant what and how to put them together properly he had to remain quiet.

Gerlinde pulled him in gently and smiled down at him, "you did so well my little kinaz, how proud of you I am." She took the helmet off and huffed smoothing down his hair with her hand. "How messy this blond hair gets – Sarov your son does not look very Russian. What was his mother?"

Sarov threw a hesitant look at Demyan before smiling, "She was polish, a strong, blonde woman. Not wiry like Demyan here, he gets that from me. He looks a lot like I did when I was younger and my eldest son – my god. They could be twins." He kissed Demyan's forehead and turned back to Gerlinde. "Of course I will never make the same mistakes with Demyan as I did with my eldest."

She nodded and followed the two back to the main house. Demyan went ahead of them to change out of his riding clothes. "Does Demyan know that his older brother has a chance of survival?"

Sarov shook his head, "no I do not want to get his hopes up as much as they are alike they never met, but Demyan always wanted to. Besides I already held a funeral for him, it was closure for me, encase I lost him, I don't want to open that wound up again." He looked away from Gerlinde trying to keep his thoughts off what would happen if he had another son. He didn't need two politicians after all.

He sat down at the table and invited Gerlinde to copy him. "I have organized for my eldest son's therapist to meet with me today. If it all went positively he will awake within three days and be walking in one month." He lit a cigarette and took a deep puff and waved his hand. A maid scuttled off to get their best vodka because when their boss drank in the day, he wasn't prepared to deal with the poorly made versions. "If all is good I will tell Demyan and then what happens from there won't matter."

"You're not going to send him back to whoever was looking after him before are you? The poor boy he looks as if he's had a hard time of it, look at those bags underneath his eyes." She gave Sarov a disappointed look. "You couldn't do that to him it would dash his hopes.

Sarov gave her a stunned look and she waved her hand about. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to offend it's just that you got this strange look when you mentioned Demyan. For some reason my mind immediately jumped to that."

"It's – ah there's my boy." He held his arms out and Demyan flatly received a hug. He hugged back awkwardly and Sarov beamed his approval. "Sit down. Sit down." Demyan sat on the right of Sarov and grabbed an apple. He picked at the skin with his nails and tried not to feel awkward. He was the only person under eighteen in the whole room and he had a feeling that the people in the room had just been taking about him.

"So tell me what you remember about what's been happening in Russia?" He pulled out his phone ready to check off the bits that Demyan remembered.

"Oh don't do that to him." Gerlinde leaned forward and piled his plate high with lunch foods. "Let him eat, look how thin he is." Demyan blushed unused to the maternal affection. Sarov muttered, "he should be studying he can survive."

She clicked her tongue and took the apple out of his hands. "Don't play with food. Here take a sip and then tell your father what you remember." Demyan accepted the drink that was pushed into his hands and took a slow sip. It felt strange hearing someone else call Sarov his father. He choked down the mouthful of drink and repeated what he'd learnt yesterday. "The Russian purist party walked out of the court, meaning that it has to reset. The workers are refusing to attend unions and a workers' party has started for employers because they are the best people to represent employees." Demyan took another sip.

Sarov shook his finger. "You forgot one." He frowned, the most important one on the list too. "Good politicians do not forget things Demyan." He gave his son a stern look waiting for him to come up with the correct answer.

Demyan nodded and furrowed his eye brows. "It's the uh, thing about the people which is very important because it gives them freedom." Sarov slapped Demyan's face in frustration. "I teach you this so you can know it not so that you can forget it. You are my son so be a good son and listen. I am very, very close to winning my senate over. Once I win them over we are in business. Now the plan…oh." He looked down at his hand and saw it was pink. He looked to Demyan's cheek and saw his eyes watery and the mark was red. He cradled Demyan's face gently. "I hit you very hard this time."

Gerlinde had withdrawn shocked that he could switch between angry to caring so quickly. Demyan pushed Sarov's hand off his cheek. "I'm fine, you didn't hurt me. It jogged my memory. The four year plan. A plan developed to make Russia independent of all trading circles and be impervious to any boycotts from other nations."

Sarov nodded placing his hand back against Demyan's cheek and rubbing it softly. "Good boy so clever. You've going to make me very proud." Gerlinde smiled at the both of them and left the room quietly thinking it would be best to give them both some time alone.

Seeing that she had gone Sarov pointed to Demyan's plate. "Eat, I have something to talk with you about."

Demyan frowned thinking that Sarov's behaviour was odd. He shoved some food in his mouth, "I'm listening?"

"Use your fork not your fingers." Sarov sighed and waited until Demyan had picked up his fork. "You are aware I have two sons. One is you, my youngest and the second is Vladimir." Demyan scrunched his nose trying to understand, 'Yes? But he's dead?" He waited for Sarov to continue.

"Not exactly. Come here." He pulled Demyan so that he was pressed against his side. He pulled out a thick photo album and took a quick shot of vodka before opening the book. "This here, this is your first mother. She was a beautiful blonde polish woman. Very independent and strong willed."

"No, that's Vladimir'- ow!" Sarov had gritted his teeth and pinched Demyan's skin very hard. "Demyan, I only have so much patience with your defiance before I send you back to Conrad for a reminder." Demyan instantly quietened and became pliant under Sarov's arm. Happier with the change Sarov started again. "This is your birth mother and this here is the first time I held my eldest – your big brother." He turned the page over and Demyan could see pictures of Vladimir growing up. "Now look, over the page is the first time he was in his uniform." He sighed and shut the book before they reached the memorial pictures.

"Vladimir did not die. The bullets were shot into his shoulders and thighs. He was quiet lucky for what it was. Now, within three days he will be awake and moved to this house, he will live in the same wing of it that you do and you will love him as a big brother." Thick fingers wound their way around Demyan's neck. "And if there is any mention of an Alex Rideryou know exactly what will happen to you."

Demyan tried to shake off the hand, "you've gotten me here haven't you? That's more than any other criminal has managed. Makes sense that you're the sickest criminal I've ever met too. You kidnapped me and forced this whole new life. Then when I don't behave how you want, you threaten to beat me." He jumped up off his chair and glared at Sarov. "Well you've got your son now, let me go."

Sarov narrowed his eyes. "You come here right now." Demyan took a few hesitant steps forward unsure of what was going to happen. Sarov grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him down to his face level. "You've pushed me too far today. You're hardly even healed from last time so I was patient with you. But I think you've been spoiled by the English family you lived with. – Conrad." Sarov called for him and Demyan struggled pulling against the hold Sarov had on his shirt. "No, no. Get off!" He brought his knee straight up into Sarov's wrist and used the few seconds to get away.

He raced down the track not listening to any commotion happening behind him he climbed up onto the tethering pole and slid onto the back of a horse. Holding on as tightly as he could to the mane he urged it forwards.

Sarov watched Demyan go and took another shot of vodka. He threw it down and motioned for Conrad to sit down. "I have this place trapped, there's no way he can get out."

Conrad shifted uneasily in his seat. "Sir he does have a history of it." Sarov narrowed his eyes and grabbed the bottle taking a large swig. "Not from me he doesn't. If he does though, he'll never do it again that's for sure."

Throwing a glance at Conrad he rolled his eyes, "fine go alert security and tell whoever you need to. Really though, he's so subservient now it should be of no difficulty to pick him up." Sarov stood up taking the bottle with him. "If he isn't though, fix him and take him to me. I'll be with my eldest son." He walked from the patio with a slight wobble.

Conrad watched him go and growled. "I'll fix him alright. Men, let's go. Whoever gets the brat gets the night off with leave." There were grins from his team as they thought about what they might do with their leave. Conrad fazed all of their voices out and talked to his security units to look out for a fourteen year old. He walked slowly out towards the stables and smirked when he saw that Alex had been thrown off the horse he had chosen. "Would you look at that, you failed to escape again and on something so simple. How pathetic. You've become weak and you're only going to become weaker. Come on stand up you're not hurt from a fall like that, you're the child spy remember now get up!" he hauled him up by his jacket and threw a hard punch into Alex's stomach.

"Do you want to know something funny Alex Rider? It doesn't matter how hard you try you'll always be Alex to me. Alex Rider, the idiotic child spy that was kidnapped by a man who wanted to be his father. But it's because you wanted it isn't that right Alex? Admit it you would have left long ago if you didn't secretly want this to happen. I saw the look in your eyes, you wanted to be taken away, made to sit still. You wanted to be made to call him father. You wanted to be safe. Well here is your one big chance, say it out loud that you wanted to be kept by Sarov and I won't have to beat it out of you." Alex stayed defiantly silent and he met Conrad's eyes with defiance. But Conrad barely blinked, he could see straight through Alex's mask. "You want to be beaten and yelled at for someone for being like this. You want to be hated for feeling this way – it's not a bad way to feel. I felt the same for years." He loosened his grip on Alex.

He was pleased to see the boy didn't move. The two of them stood there watching each other for movement before Alex looked away. "I'm meant to serve my country well, wanting this…its treason."

Conrad snorted. "Hardly, England threw you away we picked up the pieces remember? Russia is the one that is taking you in and caring for you and they don't want nor expect you to go out and fight. Don't you know even if England paid off massive amounts to Russia we wouldn't send you back?" He stretched out his back and then started leading Alex back to the house. "Now is there anything you might want to say before we reach the house?" He decided that Alex either admits it to himself or he'd beat it out of him time and time again until he freely admitted it, he was only hurting himself after all.

Alex stopped walking and nodded. "Is it really okay? I can't tell whether you're lying to make fun of me or telling the truth and if it is the truth what's your motive?"

"Oh we're in that kind of mood. Well here's the deal, Sarov is my boss and he's very happy when you act like his youngest son. He's always loved the idea of having two sons and right now that could happen for him. But Vladimir could also die in the surgery making it harder for him to deal with. So right now he's going into overdrive, trying to keep you close to him but not too close encase you thought he was weak. Just say it Alex the minute that you admit it to yourself that you want to do this then it won't be such a big deal anymore."

Alex bit his lip and met Conrad's eyes. "I was terrified working as a spy. When Sarov offered me this I didn't want to accept." Conrad clenched his first in frustration and Alex interjected quickly. "I thought he was going to set me up to do the same thing that the English had done to me. Now, now I don't think he does want that….I think I figured that out towards the end of our first stay at Skeleton's key." He swallowed feeling his face heat up with the awkwardness of the whole thing. "I do want this whole family thing…but I owe my first family back in England."

Conrad rolled his eyes and grabbed Alex by his arm "you listen to me – there is no one in England who cares for you anymore. That Jack of yours? Our influence was over ridden she was sent back to wherever we've lost track of her, your friends were informed of your death and given grief counselling. There's no one left Alex, no one would notice you anymore. No one would realise, not even if we put you straight in the face of global media."

"Even if…?" He nodded in understanding. "Yeah, do we have to tell Sarov this happened?" Conrad raised an eyebrow. "You're not going to say something first?"

Alex glared at him for a minute before finally giving in. "Yes, yes I want this. I feel safer and happier then I have for as long as I remember. But I'm scared of being ridiculed for it." Conrad nodded satisfied and Alex looked like he'd taken a dozen more punches to the stomach. "Will you go back to calling me Demyan now? I've kind of grown to like it."

Conrad didn't say anything. He'd achieved what he needed anyway.


	7. Chapter 7

_AN: For those who hadn't picked it up I deeply apologise, that is my fault. The name of the woman that was hired to be Alex's mother is Gerlinde_

"Russia is not going into a population decline I am very encouraging of large families as I see their value. Demographers are merely warning us that to maintain a strong Russia we must have good healthy boys and girls." Sarov tucked Demyan underneath his arm. "I will be offering awards and financial incentives to couples that have more than one child. As you can see I have two healthy children although one is currently finishing his recuperation period after the war." Sarov waved and pushed Demyan through the door into the private hospital room.

"He is ready to wake sir. I expect it any time within the hour. I imagine that you would like to be alone when he wakes up but please press here if he experiences any difficulties." The doctor saluted him quickly before he left the room.

Sarov pushed Demyan into a chair. "Sit." Demyan wriggled in his seat getting comfortable. Sarov grabbed his wrist tightly. "Behave, this is your big brother you are about to meet. We don't want to make any bad impressions." Demyan nodded obediently, he was resigned to being ignored for the next few months. Sarov had been distracted for days and Demyan had no doubt that he'd lost his shine now that Sarov could have the real thing. He bit his lip refusing to cry knowing that it wasn't the way Russian boys were meant to be.

It was too late though Sarov had already seen the red rims of his eyes. He sighed and carded his fingers through Demyan's hair. "I am sorry, I am excited for this – you should be to."

Demyan nodded. "Yes sir." Before Sarov could say something else there was a little click sound. Vladimir's eyelids opened but they remained glassy and unfocused. Sarov closed his eyes in relief. "He's awake."

Leaning in Demyan frowned. "He doesn't look so awake sir." He waved his hand in front of Vladimir's face and Sarov pulled him back. "It's not like the movies. There is no instant recovery, but look he can blink. That is substantial improvement. There is no doubt that he can hear us now too. Maybe not understand but he can hear us."

Sarov held his eldest son's hand and began talking to him. "So my son, you have a younger brother. You will probably be relieved to know that it is not biological but we are telling the media that. He is vital for our future plans as once you talk with him you will realise that he has great potential as a politician. I expect you to protect him, once you are fully recovered you will be my soldier again understand? He is my prince and you are my soldier I will require the both of you to pull off our four year plan." He cleared his throat. "I hope you are not feeling pain now. I require you to recover quickly." He kissed Vladimir's hand and helped Demyan out of the room. "That is enough of that. Come, we will visit again tomorrow."

That visit continued for a month with Vladimir slowly responding to more and more of what Sarov said. Until one day he croaked and pointed his finger to Demyan croaking again. Sarov nodded understanding his son intuitively. "Yes that is Demyan. His Russian is improving you have noticed, English first but we do not speak of that. We are using the cover story that his mother was Polish and moved to England without telling me she had a child. I told you that." His son pointed again and crooked his finger slightly.

Sarov nodded to Demyan. "Say hello to your brother." In the whole month Demyan had not spoken to Vladimir, he'd spoken in front of him but never to him. He opened his mouth and suddenly found himself lost for anything intelligent to say. "H-hello."

There was a weird coughing sound and Demyan took it to be laughter. He squirmed in his seat. "You don't have to laugh. It's not like these are exactly normal ways to greet your not-brother-but-brother."

Sarov watched the two of them interact with interest. He needed them to be close, it was harder to assassinate two fighters together then it was to assassinate one. He stood up. "I hope that you will speak to us properly tomorrow Vladimir. I know that you are becoming capable of it. Perhaps if you do I will let you come home."

Vladimir pushed himself up into a sitting position slowly. "Malaya Medveditsa" The words were slurred but understandable and they came out slowly. He looked straight at Demyan and crooked his finger wanting him to come closer.

Demyan instantly recognised the word for little but he tilted his head "Medveditsa?" He turned to his father who translated it to English for him. "It means little bear. It is a nickname." He pushed Demyan forward towards his brother. Demyan stood awkwardly before he realised what Vladimir wanted. Slowly he put his arms around his new brother and let Vladimir kiss his cheek before he was released.

Nodding approvingly Sarov pulled Demyan back into his chest "you will re-enter the house tomorrow. I shall come and collect you. You and Demyan will share the locked wing." Having grown used to his freedom Demyan opened his mouth to protest. "But papa that's not fair I have been good." Sarov shook his head and guided him out. "I will see you tomorrow Vladimir."

Pushing through the cameras and waiting reporters he waited until they were in the car before continuing the conversation. "I must leave for two weeks. I do not trust the reporters, besides you will have Vladimir who has accepted you as his brother and you will have your mama." He kept his mouth in a firm line.

There was silence until Demyan spoke. "Why does he accept me? If I had just gotten out of a coma and found I'd been replaced I'd be so angry."

Sarov chuckled in amusement. "You are not a replacement you are a second son. Ideal family has four children and I just have two precious sons. You are both vitally important to me and Vladimir has recognised that. As such he has decided to be grown up about this issue and will submit under his otets *will."

Demyan frowned at the formal language. "But papa – i…" Sarov held up a hand "moy rebenok solntse* do not argue with me." He turned back to his papers. "I need a well behaved son not a rebellious one."

Terrified of being left behind Demyan nodded and was quiet the rest of the way home. When they arrived Gerlinde greeted them both. "Oh look at my little angel oh he is tired Sarov do not scold me for speaking the English. You don't want him to forget it anyway." She kissed his cheek softly and led Demyan inside. "I saw you on the news today Sarov, you only have two sons. The public is confused as to why you are promoting large families, especially when you only have two children yourself." She sat them both down at the table. She heaped a huge amount of salad onto Demyan's plate." She hovered over his shoulder. "Eat, eat."

Groaning with the knowledge that this was only the first course his mama had cooked he chewed his way through the filling salad before a plate of meat and mashed potatoes was set in front of him. He yawned and picked at it.

Sarov looked over to tell his son to quit fussing and finish his dinner when he saw Demyan face in his plate sleeping. He snorted with laughter and took a photo with his phone. It was the first time that he'd seen the boy let his guard down so much.

Gerlinde just clicked her tongue. "I don't know, do I wake him up? He will be hungry." Sarov shook his head. "He's fine. Help me open up the locked wing. I am leaving for a week – my son Vladimir will arrive tomorrow. They are to be in the wing together and you are allowed in but do not – under any circumstances allow them out- it is unsafe." He let her wipe off Demyan's face before he lifted him up off the chair. The two of them walked down to the wing together.

The locked wing was usually reserved for when Demyan was grounded but this time it was a matter of safety. Reporters had been getting more aggressive about getting their news and Vladimir wasn't ready to protect his brother yet. He settled Demyan in his usual bed and tucked the sheets around him. He kissed Demyan's cheek before shooing Gerlinde out. He locked the wing even for her and fell asleep in his usual room having a weird feeling Demyan would need him tonight.

As predicted three hours after he fell asleep two hands shook him awake. "Papa, papa. Please?" Sarov opened his eyes slowly and looked up in confusion at Demyan's worried face. "What is it we're – oof." He was treated to an armful of fourteen year old. "Okay, I've caught you. It's night time Dem… moy rebenok solntse what are these tears for?" He tilted Demyan's face. "Look at you, you're okay. Shh, shh." He rocked him gently surprised that he had actually predicted that tonight would be a nightmare night. Demyan had a few nightmares since his last episode with Conrad but they were usually easily dealt with by Gerlinde, unfortunately he currently had no such luxury and was forced to calm him himself.

"The English, they bombed Russia and they took me away again. But you didn't care!" Demyan burst into a new round of tears. Sarov stroked his back, "shh no English are ever harming anyone especially not my Russia." He smirked, thinking of his future plans to set up the English military with Demyan's fill in mother. "Anyone from Russian soil who is hurt is clearly not doing the right thing by me at the time." He rocked Demyan continuously feeling him becoming limper in his arms. Too lazy to send the boy back to bed he lay back down with Demyan in his arms and fell asleep.

AN_ I am sorry if you are not enjoying this! I am trying hard but terrified that I'll disappoint one of you, so please forgive me and tell me if I am. I will try my best to correct this. _

*the formal way of saying father

*my baby sunshine

Note 1: I hope that I am making it clear that Vladimir and Demyan are being treated very differently. Demyan will be babied and coddled a lot more than Vladimir will as he will also be privy to less of Sarov's plans.


End file.
